A Tangled Skein of Thread
by Shukumeiko
Summary: -On Hold- A young runaway is transported to Mirkwood where she learns the true meaning of her actions. Eh, it's better than the summary sounds. Read, please.
1. Strawberry Tea and Sympathy

A Tangled Skein of Thread  
Chapter 1: Strawberry Tea and Sympathy  
  
LoTR fanfiction by Kaie  
Author's notes: Yeah, nothing much of Middle Earth happens in the first chapter. Mostly background information on the main character Eren. Oh, btw, before little hissy-missies start... well... hissing, this isn't a Mary-Sue. I think it's kind of pathetic to write a Mary-Sue, but hey, mark my words. Come the next installment of the LoTR movies, and I'll be writing a Mary-Sue myself, of course, with Legolas at my side. Ahhh..... Lego. ^.^ Tee.  
  
Side notes: on Earth, her name is Eren Francis, her first name pronounced Eh-ren. in Middle Earth, her name is Valaen Feanor, pronounced Vala-en Fey-ah-norr.   
  
Feedback: Comments, suggestions, constructive criticism, etc at welcome at the aforementioned e-mail too. All flames will be used to fry eggs. Yum. If your name is Jacob Cherry and you live in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, you are most definitely NOT welcome to review this fic or any other I write, simply because you're a doo-doo head who deserves to be reincarnated as the One Ring because you fit its description oh so well and also because you get cast into the depths of Mordor, and also because you reside in Middle Earth and not on regular old pantsy-wantsy Earth where the rest of us have to deal with your infidelity. *takes a breath* And next time, I'll kick from the front, not the back, and I won't miss.   
Otherwise, enjoy.   
  
Tenna' ento lye omenta.   
Until next we meet.  
-Kaie  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor any entities, trademarks, paraphernalia, copyrights, etc found within and it's affiliates. I'm just borrowing them for awhile. =)  
  
  
The streetlights flickered in their glass orbs. Eren picked her head up and glanced at the lights, a sigh escaping her. It seemed they glowed dimmer this time of night than any other hour. It was the fifth night in a row she hadn't been able to find a decent place to sleep in. She'd wandered the streets, being chased by stray dogs, and yelled at by drunks.   
Eren's life in the past five months had been a tumultous whirlwind of fights, angry shouting, doors slamming, and fists lashing. Two months ago she had grabbed all her available cash and a few twenties she filched from her mother's purse and went on her own. It had been an impetuous decision, one she regretted at times. For the first few weeks, she lived fairly well, for a runaway. Staying in hotels every now and then, she was able to eat well whenever she was hungry, and her clothes stood up to the elements better than expected. But all could not stay. The cash began dwindling and she put herself on a strict ration, buying only food when the hunger gnawed at her stomach like a thousand knives constantly scraping her insides. Her clothes began looking ripped, ragged, and wore thin, fraying at the seams. She had decided not to stay at hotels any more, as they were usually a waste of money. She instead looked for abandoned buildings, ones with perhaps other homeless people in there who weren't sociopaths. Occasionally, she got lucky and had a fire in a barrel to sleep next to, and a blanket over her body.   
Now, the clouds had herded together in the bleak sky and opened upon the earth. Rain pelted the roofs of cars, forming puddles on the street, soaking Eren to the bone. She needed a place to stay, desperately, but all the available hotels and motels turned her away when she came knocking. Her urchin appearance made her feel a bit ashamed at times, having to beg for money or food. But all that hadn't helped her in the past week. Even with all of her spare time spent searching for dropped cash, begging, and saving her money, she only had a few dollars left. She had not stayed in an inhabited building for two weeks, at least. Her ebony hair was greasy and pulled back in an impromptu ponytail, her face dotted with streaks of mud and dirt. Her clothes looked worse for the wear, mothy, torn, and wet. Still, the motel owner looked upon her kindly when she pushed open the glass doors. She, the owner that is, looked a bit like Eren's grandmother, with a hefty build, and silvery hair piled up in a loose knot at the top of her head, and spectacles twinkling in the fluorescent lights.   
"H-how much for a night? Just one." Eren's voice was hoarse and tired, her eyes smudged with weariness.   
"Ahh.. 29.50." The old lady replied, her tone soft.   
Eren reached into her pocket, and pulled out all her money. One ten, and the rest one dollar bills. She spread them onto the counter in front of the lady, and counted. Tears started to well in her cerulean eyes when she realized she was six dollars short. Steeling herself, she wiped her eyes warily and reached into her pocket to see if she had missed a bill or two. The old lady watched her for a few moments, then, seeming to come to a decision, pushed the crumpled bills back towards Eren.  
"Now, now, it's going to be alright. You need the rest more than I need this money. Keep it. Your room is number 11, here's the key. When you get settled in, come over here and I'll give you a cup of hot tea." The woman patted her hand gently, smiling at Eren.  
"Oh... oh, oh, No I couldn't, really, I--"  
Eren began stammering, trying to thank the woman, but she ended up just closing her eyes and nodding silently.   
"T-thank you..."  
The room was quaint, with a smell that was reminiscent of an attic closed off too long. But it was better than the other places she had stayed in so far. As was wont with all hotel rooms when you first entered them, the room was bone-chillingly cold, but Eren wrapped her arms around herself and glanced around. The bed was neatly made, with a thick comforter and two pillows. Across the small room, barely 4 feet from the bed, was an unfinished wood desk, with a notepad and pen on top. The bathroom had a rusting faucet and showerhead with mildew-encrusted tiles, but still Eren stripped off her clothes and took a shower. For the next fifteen minutes, she was in bliss, warm water pounding down her back and thawing her frozen extremities.Her clothes, laying on the bed outside the steamy bathroom, had already begun to dry by the time she stepped out of the shower. Wrapping her hair up into a quick turban, she pulled on her clothes and sat down on the bed to finish drying her hair. The tiny, chipped lamp sitting on the bedside table cast an aura of buttery light around her and the bed, giving the room a warmer feeling, despite the rain spilling in sheets outside. Rubbing her hair briskly with the towel, she sat down half-amusedly at the desk, and picked up the pen. She felt as though she should write a letter to somebody, as if she was on one big trip. But she knew no one, and even if she did, she couldn't waste money on postage. She stood up and draped the damp towel over the chair, taking in the whole room.  
Suddenly, she remembered the kindly motel owner's invitation for tea. A quick glance at the window told her the rain was still pouring outside. Still, she felt she needed to go talk to the old woman, and thank her. She pushed open the door cautiously, then, haphazardly almost, took off for the main office. The rain slapping against her feet, she dodged in and out of cars and poles to try and reach the front office. She was pleased to find she made it there without getting herself too wet.   
The office lobby was empty when she entered, the only sounds coming from a T.V. in a room whose door was half-way shut.   
"Hello?" Eren's voice wavered. "I-is anyone here?"  
Silence.  
Her wet sneakers squeaking against the linoleum, she walked over to the room with the T.V. and peered inside. The old lady was sitting at an overstuffed leather armchair, watching a rerun of Andy Griffith. As the familiar whistling theme came on, the woman began humming along with it.   
"E-excuse me." Eren tried again, her voice a little louder this time.   
The leather groaned under the woman's sudden shifting as she turned to look towards the door.  
"Oh, it's you dear. Yes, yes, I invited you for tea, now didn't I? Well, come on in, and I'll put the pot on the stove." With a small grunt, the woman heaved herself off the armchair and began for the kitchen.   
"You really don't have to bother with the tea..." Eren started, as she ventured into the room.  
"Ah, well it's a cold night out and tea will warm both you and I up. So, let's have at it. You just make yourself comfortable over there, and I'll be along in just a moment."  
"I-I..." Eren pushed a hand through her tangled mane and surveyed the room. A small armchair sat at an angle from the T.V. and the old woman's seat. She sat herself down in it, aware of the wet imprint she was leaving.   
"I... er... just wanted to thank you.... for what you did." She said, her face down. "It was very nice of you..."  
The cups on the worn silver tray the woman carried, rattled as she moved in front of Eren. Setting them down on a coffee table in front of the TV, she spoke. The smell of strawberries filled the air.  
"Oh, 'twas nothing. I don't mean to be rude, but I don't expect you've had much kindness in your life. Otherwise, you wouldn't have run away."   
Eren flicked her head up, one hand poised, about to take a cup. The woman had seated herself and was staring at Eren, serenely. Gathering herself, she picked up the cup and took a sip, trying to look nonchalant. The tea burned her tongue and her throat going down, leaving with the sweet aftertaste of strawberries. Steam from the cup roiled in the air like the thoughts in Eren's mind.  
"H-how... " The cup rattled on the saucer she held and with a mental thought, she steadied it.  
"How did I know you ran away? Well... simple really. Ah, perhaps I shouldn't say that. There are many things that seem simple to one and complex to another. Let's just say not everything in this world is quite as it seems. If it was, how would we have our lives?" The woman leaned back in her chair, a wry smile upon her wrinkled face.  
"I'm afraid I don't understand." Eren began, trying to keep her tone polite.   
"How should I start this? Well, one thing to keep in mind, is in order to know yourself you must know people. As you can tell, I'm no spring chicken. I've known many people. And as such as in this world, not all are kind, not all are evil. Most, however, lie within what I call a gray area. Teetering on the brink of the alignment of good or bad. These are the ones that know not themselves or the world around them."  
A harsh sigh arose from Eren.   
"I still don't understand you." She started, her tone getting to be a bit irritated.   
"Perhaps I've been talking in circles too long. You see--"   
A sharp noise from the main office cut her off; the incessant ringing of a phone.  
"Excuse me, dear. I need to go answer that." And with those words, the woman was out the door and in the office.   
Another sigh came from Eren.   
"Figures." She muttered, and set the cup of tea down on the coffee table rather roughly. Several drops of tea sloshed out from the cup and landed on the table. Looking around helplessly for some napkins or paper towels, she found none, and used her sleeve to wipe up the drops. A worn book, lying slightly behind a vase of wilted daisies, caught her eye. Reaching out, she picked it up from the table and studied it.   
"Lord of the Rings." She murmured aloud. The name of the book was not unfamiliar to her. She'd heard it before, as it obviously was very well-written, though she'd never read it. Flipping it open, she skimmed across the pages.   
"Map of Middle Earth...Middle Earth?" Her brow furrowed. Her eyes darted rapidly from page to page, as she read through bits and pieces of the book. After a few moments, she let her arm dangle over the arm of the chair, the book still grasped within it, and leaned her forehead on the heel of her free hand.   
"This book is about as easy to decipher as that old woman's words." She muttered. Then, with a furtive glance at the book, she smiled a bit wistfully.  
"Too bad though. Middle Earth sounds enchanting." Her last words were muffled by a yawn. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and leaned back in the chair. Casting an annoyed look at the door, she let out a little heave of indignance.  
"Grr... when is she going to get back? I want to go back to my room and sleep... mm..." She blinked sleepily. "I'll just... rest my eyes... for... for... for a moment...." The world went dark as Eren closed her eyes and fell into sleep. 


	2. Mirkwood

A Tangled Skein of Thread  
Chapter 2: Mirkwood  
  
LoTR Fanfiction by Kaie  
Author's notes, pre-chapter writing: I use alot of Elvish in here. The translations are all at the bottom,(that is, if I don't already add a sort of mini-translation within the story) which I know frustrates some people, but I hate reading fanfiction that has Elvish, then breaks up the plot and sentences suddenly to provide a translation right after it. Maybe you don't, but I do, and this is my fic, so boink off. Well, no, not really, I want you to read my fic. Blah, yeah, I'm going to have more fun with this chapter than the last one. The last one was harder to write because I wanted to convey everything in succint detail, but I failed miserably. *sob* Hope this one is better.   
  
Side notes: Valaen Feanor means, roughly translated in Elvish, Archangel of the Spirit of Fire. This makes absolutely no sense towards her character at all as she cannot embodiment fire, or control fire, nor is she an archangel or even an angel. I just liked the way it sounded. All Elvish will NOT be in quotations or cutesy little marks because most likely if you can't recognize it all off the bat, it's probably Elvish or my poor grammar skills. Similiarly, if you cannot understand ANY words on this page, you should seek professional help. But, you won't be able to read that, so what does it matter, eh? Also, I refer to her as Eren towards the beginning of the story, but near the middle, she begins to transcend into Valaen, and from thus on I call her Valaen. Don't worry, I'll try not to make it confusing.  
  
Tenna' ento lye omenta  
Until next we meet.  
-Kaie  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor any entities, trademarks, paraphernalia, copyrights, etc found within and it's affiliates. I'm just borrowing them for awhile. =)  
  
  
  
Eren was falling. The air around her seemed to sparkle within itself, shimmering in an endless pastel rainbow of colors. Blue seeped into indigo, which transgressed into violet, that in turn became red and then on. Her hair flew about her in an endless sheet of onyx. Her eyes were closed, though she was strangely aware of what was happening. Her arms, which were floating slack in the air, then brought themselves to her chest. She landed on a bed, soft as a baby bird, the bed bending almost like rubber beneath the sudden force of her landing upon it. The blankets seemed like liquid, as she fell into them with something akin to a cloth splash. The colors around her changed starkly to white, then to black as Eren fell into something entirely different. Slumber.  
"en....Valaen.... Valaen.... " A gentle voice, almost like the cooing of a dove, jarred Eren out of her sleep. Sunlight streamed through into the room, causing Eren to squint, even with her eyes closed. Burying her head in the mountainous pillows, she mumbled an unintelligible reply.  
"Grshloot...."   
"Tarien Valaen[1]!!!" The voice suddenly became harsher, and louder, accompanied by a pinch to her side.   
"Ahhh!!!" Like a shot, Eren sat straight up in the bed, her eyes wide open. "Huh?!" Her cloudy eyes blurred, then cleared to focus upon a tiny woman standing at the foot of her bed. A woman?   
The woman, though short, held herself confidently so that she seemed six feet tall. She wore a simple dress, a flaming cabernet in color, which fit her frame well. Her eyes were an alarming shade of green, and her hair a mass of caramel curls reaching well below her waist. Her ears were... of all things... pointy.   
"Yallume! Tarien Valaen, lle vanwa kaime au'[2]." The woman's voice gave way to a lilt, flowing upon the air like water. The language seemed unlike anything Eren had ever heard. Though Eren was positive she did not understand the language, she somehow discerned the woman was scolding her for oversleeping.  
"W-where.... where am I?" Eren wondered out loud with increasing fear. Why was she here? Where did the motel go?   
"Tarien Valaen, quena e' Eldalie[3]." Speak in... speak in.... what?  
"Amin nae hiraetha, amin n' quena lle lammen[4]." Eren opened her mouth to reply she did not speak the language, but instead of English, she found herself speaking in that very tongue.  
The woman placed her hands on her hips and frowned disapprovingly.  
"Don't understand, huh? You've been speaking Elvish all your life. Really, I mean, how could you not, being an elf-maiden... But there's no time to waste talking. Get up and dressed. Need I remind you this is the fifth time you've overslept since the seven days we've been here?"   
"Lle[5]... I mean, Y-you can speak... English?" Eren stammered out, the first thought that forced its way out of her mouth, fighting amid a crowd of others.  
"English? What are you babbling on about now, Princess Valaen? I'm speaking Common."  
"Why are you calling me Princess Valaen? And... and who are you?"  
For the first time since Eren laid eyes upon the woman, her brow furrowed and her eyes became clouded with worry.   
"What are you speaking of, Princess? Have you fallen ill? I am Elyia, your handmaid since you were a babe of 50 years. You are Princess Valaen of the Feanor kingdom. You are here in Mirkwood upon business with its king." Then, the woman crossed her arms and huffed a sigh.   
"Ah, me. Perhaps King Landesse would have been better off coming here himself. What was he thinking, sending you to do a king's job? I mean no offense towards you, my lady, but you have been extremely disoriented ever since we arrived in Mirkwood."   
"Fif-... Did you say... Fifty years?! I'm only 17!! And I'm NOT a princess!!!" Eren was now in a tissy. What the hell was going on?!  
"Seventeen?! 'Tis a newborn, my lady!! You are 2038! Well, next week, that is. And you most certainly ARE a princess!" Elyia seemed as worked up as Eren was, now realizing something was seriously wrong with her "princess."  
"You had better not be playing tricks upon me, my lady. Now, I will be leaving and I will be back in thirty minutes. If you are not dressed, and ready to go by then, I swear, I don't know what I shall do! The breakfast bell rang ages ago!" With that ultimatum still hazing the air, Elyia walked out of the room and closed the door firmly.   
Eren sat back on the bed. Valaen? _Princess_ Valaen?? Was something in that tea the motel owner gave to her?   
She started suddenly, as she realized the room around her. The walls were ethereal, a white gold color, with silver filigree lacing itself around the borders. High columns, surrounding by open arches led out onto a stone balcony, with a perfect view of a waterfall. A vanity with bench was directly across the bed, and on it were, stacked neatly, bottles of perfume, brushes, jewelry, and the like. Eren glanced down and gasped. The bed she lay on was mountainous. Sweeping curtains were tied back with thick gold thread, brushing gently against the piles of dove white pillows. The sheets were of something akin to silk, but cool to the touch, gleaming like satin. Eren jumped up, afraid she would dirty it, and caught a glimpse of herself in the vanity. Had she not already been rather numb with shock, she would've fainted at the sight of "herself" in the mirror. Her skin was an ivory white, shining almost with a surreal light, and her eyes were the most shocking shade of cerulean she'd ever seen, somehow the same, yet entirely different from her normal blue eyes. Her hair, still black as a raven's wing, fell now to her waist in a waterfall of sheen.   
The nightgown she wore blended with the color scheme of the room, a light gold, tied with a thin silver belt. Eren stepped back and grabbed the bed to steady herself. Her breath came in shallow gasps, as she tried to regain herself.   
"It's a dream. A dream, Eren. Hahaha, go on laugh it off now." Her voice babbled incessantly, trying to make sense. "You'll wake up soon. Soon..."   
She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Then she spoke aloud.  
"Well... damn... if this is a dream, it's the best one I've ever had."  
  
  
Seeming to recover quickly from her previous shock, she began bustling around the room, looking through endless dresses that would make Versace redden with shame, spritzing the seemingly endless plethora of perfume around the room, and trying on the jewelry. The next ten minutes were spent talking to the mirror, to an imaginary crowd of men, flanking about her.  
"Why yes, I am _the_ Princess Vala--"   
Her words were cut short as the door opened suddenly. Eren whirled around, and found Elyia standing there, growing redder by the minute.   
"Princess! H-how... you...You're still not ready?!" The woman's face was so red, Eren could hardly discern her from the dress she wore.  
Then she took a deep breath and the color drained out of her face.   
"No matter. We shall have you ready in a moment's breath." Elyia held up a magnificent dress, almost the same shade as the one she wore, except a bit more subdued.   
"I... I get to wear that?" Eren breathed. The dress was the most beautiful she'd ever seen. Its color was like a late night sunset, full and warm in color. Though no ostentatious embellishments adorned it, the design by itself was stunning. Its neck dipped dangerously low, but fashionably so, and the sleeves possessed mock stitching along the sides, ending at flared cuffs. The waist was fitted, and from the bottom down, the skirt fell to brush the ground, limp in simplistic beauty.   
"I know, I know, it's not as good as the others you've worn, but it is the best I could get. Now turn around, and be quick about it."   
The next few moments left Eren in a daze, as her organs were throttled from one side of her body to the next, while Elyia shuffled the dress over her form, then laced it up tightly.   
"Elyia... I don't think I can breathe..." Eren choked out, desperately trying to reach behind her and undo the lacing.  
"Of course not, it's all the fashion here in Mirkwood."   
Then, ignoring Eren's gasping protects, Elyia took a silver brush and began coaxing Eren's bed-tangled hair into a straight, shining cascade. She braided two sections of her hair neatly, just in front of her ears, then placed a woven headdress made of silver thread, and held together with transparent crystal beads about her head. A thin chain-mail necklace, with a tear-drop pendant the color of blood, was fastened around her neck and came to rest barely above her collarbone. Still a bit flustered, Eren stayed still the whole of the procedure, afraid if she moved, she'd get stabbed with a hair pin.  
As the woman began to dust a powder puff with the tree bark foundation that she assured Eren was popular in Mirkwood, Eren stopped her hand. The smell was horrible, and she was sure wearing it on her skin wouldn't feel much better. Besides, she wasn't much the natural herb type.   
Finally, it seemed her preparations were ready. Eren sat on the stool, a bit stiffly and glanced at herself in the mirror. Her hands flutted nervously, and she tried to take a deep breath, but the stays curtailed all excess movement, something Eren found quite annoying. Elyia placed her hands on Eren's shoulders and smiled from behind her.   
"Beautiful, Princess Valaen."   
A moment later, Elyia walked out from the room, after a hurried reminder that, though she could roam about Mirkwood in the day, at dusk the banquet was to take place and she had better be there. Eren sat for a few moments, wondering what she could possibly do to entertain herself the whole day.   
"But, then again, what am I complaining for? It's a beautiful dream, Eren, and one you'll possibly wake up from all too soon. Enjoy it while it lasts, Princess Valaen." Her last words were darkly sardonic, bitter almost. Then a smile set itself upon her face, and she took from the room to the realm of Mirkwood.   
  
Bliss. Heavenly bliss. These two words came not even close to the feelings that coursed through Eren as she explored Mirkwood. The people were beautiful in themselves, walking throughout the lengthy corridors and open spaces, murmuring excitedly in Elvish, stopping to nod towards Eren for a moment. Waterfalls, ponds, towering trees, sprawling gardens and animals of every kind were found all around the realm, making her entire journey of Mirkwood only more aesthetically pleasing.  
"How could I have ever thought this place was dull? I could entertain myself here for a thousand years or more..." She spoke aloud, leaning against the wrought iron railing of an arched bridge. Tiny fish swam to and fro underneath the stone bridge, and birds frolicked through the air above her.   
"Well, let's hope you're more patient than that, Princess Valaen. 'Twould be extremely odd for an elf to be so impatient. Only a thousand years, tsk. And in such a boring place." A masculine voice came from behind her, light and humorous.   
She whirled around, unaware any one had been around her.   
"My...you are an odd elf. You didn't even sense me coming up?" The blonde elf that stood in front of her had his back leaned against the railing as he surveyed her. His features were chiseled, almost strangely so, with high cheekbones and an angular face. As was with most of the people in Mirkwood, as Eren realized, his eyes were a shocking ice blue. A quiver of arrows and a longbow were barely visible from behind his back, as his hair almost completely covered it.   
"I wasn't aware anyone was listening to me.. y-you are?" Eren ventured, her hand still pressed to her throat.   
"Legolas Greenleaf. And you are Princess Valaen, of the Feanor kingdom, here on business with King Thranduil. It's an honor to finally meet the maiden whose name is whispered from the shadows." He mock bowed slightly, then straightened up and looked to her, one eyebrow arched amusedly.   
She flared a bit, then calmed herself down. Who did he think he was? And what exactly did that mean?   
"Well... Legolas... I'm afraid... I was so caught up in the beauty of Mirkwood, I let down my guard, and suddenly found myself encompassed by a beast of unnatural proportions. I assure you, it won't happen again." Her tone was sarcastically polite.   
"So you're enjoying yourself in Mirkwood, then?" He seemed to be enjoying the verbal spar.   
"I'm afraid to reply, I was. But still, let not the entire day be ruined. I bid you goodbye." Strangely enough, Eren had picked up the archaic form of speech everyone spoke, and used it with some ease. She turned and walked off the bridge, slowly, holding herself high, knowing somehow he wouldn't follow her. As soon as she rounded a corner, and he was out of sight, she bristled with rage. How rude!   
She hoped she did not meet this "Legolas Greenleaf" again soon. Collapsing on a stone bench, Eren sighed. Even though her mind made her blood rush loudly throughout her head, something deep within her also made her heart speed up just a bit faster.   
  
  
Author's notes, post-chapter writing: Gah! Bad bad bad bad. People have been pressuring me to release the second chapter, so here it is. It's got tons of problems in it, but for all my fans out there (::sob:: fans, what a beautiful word!), whom this seems to be a sort of mental drug for them, I've tried to get it out quicker. Thankies to everyone who helped me.   
  
Elvish  
[1] Princess Valaen  
[2] Finally! Princess Valaen, you overslept again!  
[3] Princess Valaen, speak in Elvish.  
[4] I am sorry, I don't speak your language.  
[5] Quenya pronoun for "you" 


End file.
